Our Daughter’s Husband Isn’t Wealthy, But We Gifted Her a Lovely Flat—Now the Groom’s Mum Wants to Move In Her Whole Family and Take Control

Author Emily TaylorReading 2 minViews 3

Our daughter recently married, choosing a chap not from a wealthy family, yet wise and sensible. My husband and I werent exactly over the moon, but it was her path to walk.

To mark the wedding, my husband gave our daughter a lovely flatnot grand, but comfortableso the newlyweds wouldnt have to rent. They were chuffed with the gift, especially her husbands parents.

The in-laws praised the flat every time they visited, popping round rather too often. My daughter began ringing me up, grumbling that her mother-in-law had practically moved in and she couldnt even ring her mates for a natter. Not long ago, her mother-in-law suggested my daughter should register her and her family at their address, so she could give up her own place, sell it off, and then buy a bigger home for them all with the proceeds. In her view, the new place would be shared, not belonging just to my daughter, as family ought to share everything.

Naturally, my daughter politely declined; the idea seemed bizarre. Still, her mother-in-law pressed on, ringing almost daily and nudging about her proposalthen resorting to guilt trips and dramatic scenes. She accused my daughter of not loving her son and threatened divorce and taking the flat. She wouldnt even listen to her son, though he quietly tried to ease the tension.

We tried not to tiptoe in, thinking it best to let the couple handle their own troubles. But when our daughter started phoning in tears, it was too hard to bear, and we chose to step in.

My husband, a straight-talking man, went to see her mother-in-law himself and told her firmly to leave our daughter be, even threatening to call the police if she carried on. The mother-in-law fell silent, backtracking with claims of being misunderstood and only wanting the best for everyone.

Our daughter is peaceful now, no longer haunted by her mother-in-laws schemes, and once again content in her own dreamlike little world.

Do I Remember? I Can’t Forget! “Polly, we need to talk… Remember my illegitimate daughter, Nancy?” My husband spoke in riddles, making me uneasy. “Hmm… Do I remember? I could never forget! Why?” I sat down, bracing myself for trouble. He hesitated. “Nancy is begging us to take her daughter—my granddaughter.” “Why on earth, Alex? Where’s Nancy’s husband—living in dreamland?” Now I was intrigued. Alex explained: “Nancy doesn’t have long left. Never had a husband. Her mother married an American and moved to the States—massive falling out, no contact. No other family. That’s why she’s asking…” Alex looked embarrassed. “So?” I pressed. “What are you going to do?” I already knew my answer. “I’m asking you, Polly. Whatever you say, we’ll do,” Alex finally met my gaze. “Very clever—you sowed your wild oats, and now, Polly, you want me to take responsibility for someone else’s child? Is that right?” I was furious at his weakness. “Polly, we’re a family. We decide together,” Alex protested. “Oh! Now you remember. But when you were fooling around, did you ask my advice? I’m your wife!” I burst into tears and left the room. …Back in school, I dated my classmate, Val, but when new boy Alex showed up, I forgot everyone else. We became inseparable; within a week, I was in love. When Alex was drafted into the army, I cried my eyes out on the train platform. For a year, we wrote letters—until he confessed he’d met someone else. By then, I was already pregnant, thanks to Alex’s fleeting promises. Old Val stepped up and helped; truth be told, we became close. I never expected to see Alex again—until he turned up at my door, and Val had to let him in. After some awkwardness, Alex said, “I’ve come back for you, Polly. Will you have me?” I let him back. My son needed his father—not just a stepdad. Val moved on, too, and found happiness of his own. Years passed. Alex could never quite love our son as a father should—certain he was Val’s child. Meanwhile, Alex strayed constantly, but I couldn’t stop loving him. The one who loves is always happily oblivious. I forgave everything. When we argued and Alex left, months later, I tracked him down at his new girlfriend’s flat. Turns out she had his daughter, Nancy. I always blamed myself for driving him away then—perhaps that other woman wouldn’t have swooped in if I hadn’t sent Alex away. We never mentioned Nancy. I pretended her existence didn’t threaten our family. With time, Alex settled down. Our son married young and gave us three lovely grandchildren. Then, out of the blue, Nancy resurfaced, asking us to take in her little daughter. Hard questions followed—how to explain her to our son, who never knew about his father’s past? In the end, we became guardians to five-year-old Alice. Nancy died at thirty—her journey over. Alex spoke honestly to our son, who said, “What’s past is past. The girl is family—she belongs with us.” We breathed easier, grateful for our kind-hearted son. Now Alice is sixteen, adores Granddad Alex, shares secrets with him, and calls me Nan—saying she’s the spitting image of me in my youth. And I can’t help but agree…

Winter had wrapped Andrew’s garden in a soft blanket of snow, but his loyal dog Duke, a giant German Shepherd, was acting strangely. Instead of curling up in the large kennel Andrew had lovingly built for him last summer, Duke stubbornly refused to sleep inside, choosing instead to lie out in the snow. Andrew watched from the window, his heart tightening—Duke had never behaved like this before. Every morning, as Andrew stepped outside, he noticed how Duke eyed him warily. Whenever Andrew approached the kennel, the dog would position himself protectively between him and the entrance, growling softly and staring up as if to plead, “Please, don’t go in there.” Such odd behavior from his longtime friend troubled Andrew deeply—what was his faithful companion hiding? Determined to uncover the truth, Andrew crafted a little plan—tempting Duke into the kitchen with a juicy steak. While the dog, locked inside, barked fiercely at the window, Andrew returned to the kennel and knelt to peer inside. His heart nearly stopped as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw something that left him frozen in shock… …Inside, tucked under a blanket, was a tiny kitten—dirty, frozen, and barely breathing. Its eyes flickered weakly open, its body shivering with cold. Somewhere, Duke had found it, and instead of chasing it off or leaving it to its fate, had given it shelter. Duke slept outside so he wouldn’t frighten the kitten, guarding the entrance as if protecting hidden treasure. Andrew held his breath. He reached out gently, gathered the little creature in his arms, and pressed it to his chest. Instantly, Duke ran over and nestled beside his shoulder—not growling, but calm and ready to help. “You’re a good boy, Duke…” Andrew whispered, hugging the kitten. “Better than most people.” From that day on, there were no longer just two friends living in the garden, but three. And the kennel Andrew had built with so much care found new purpose—a little home for rescued souls.